the loneliest
by musicnotes093
Summary: they're all what he doesn't feel inside - and that's good. [part one.]


_july 2017_

"They found a new habitable island."

He doesn't think much of it when Boz says those words. After four years of being with his brother (older or younger, it's irrelevant at this point), he has learned that many times he just says some things just to say them. He attributes it to having lived with animals for a good half of his life. Boz is attuned to the way animals communicate, which, as he now understands, means that what he says is sometimes important, sometimes urgent, and sometimes nonsensical. Commenting about a habitable island can mean a great many things.

But as his brother continues mentioning it in further conversations, he starts sensing that it will be the catalyst of another change.

It doesn't help how restless the Minduans seem to him whenever he interacts with them. They're bored, fed up. Longing for something that they can't find on Kinkou anymore. He pushes away the conclusion forming in his heart and his head over and over again. He might just be reading too much into it. It probably isn't true.

Kinkou is their home. Some of their children had been born here. Why would they want to...

He doesn't say the word. Doesn't say it, doesn't think it, doesn't breathe it. Maybe if he denies its existence, it will cease being true.

But then, he begins to see it on Boz, too. His brother doesn't want to leave, that at least is true. However, the discomfort of not being able to give what his subjects desire shows every night on his face. It must be in his dreams as well because he tosses and turns all night, more than usual, as if he's a boat carried here and there by tempestuous waves.

He allows his brother to sit on it for a while, hoping that like a raging storm, it will also desist.

It doesn't.

"Boomer, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He knows. He knows what it is, but he pretends he doesn't. Pretension is the last defense he has against falling off the cliff of the inevitable.

Boz explains—and passionately so. He speaks of how thankful he was to have come to this island, to meet a kind king who turned out to be his brother. He was thankful of their many, many adventures and of being introduced to the family he thought he had forever lost.

Then he releases what weighs on him. He's a king, too, he says, and though he loves the people of Kinkou his duty is to be the king of Mindu first. He has to provide them what they need if he can. For the past four years, he had been feeling inadequate for being unable to help with their longing for the home that they'll never be able to get back to.

"So, what are you trying to say? I haven't given enough?"

"No. That's not it at all." Finally, he says the word. "It's time for us to leave, Boom."

He denies it even when it hangs freely and openly in the air. Why would the Minduans leave? Kinkou is enjoying peace now, and there's more than plenty for everybody.

For safe measure, he promises his brother that he'll gather the engineers the next day. Maybe all the Minduans need is a new feature on their village. He will tap into his personal savings if he needs to, just so both the Minduans and the people of Kinkou will be happy.

Boz sighs, and that's more than enough. "Please understand. I have to do this for them."

"But why would you all go when you're all safe here?"

"If it was up to me, I would stay – "

"It _is_ up to you. You're the king."

"You know it's not as easy as that. You're a king too, Boomer. You've been ruling for seven years. Don't you do what you can to make sure your people are happy?"

The answer is obvious: yes, he does. But it's more complicated than that.

He doesn't go into the why of that complexity, though. Instead, he tells Boz that it's late, and maybe he'll change his mind in the morning.

Boz goes to sleep, uneasy and the most conflicted he's ever seen him.

He, on the other hand, puts on a smile as he says goodnight. It stays on his face until he ebbs into unconsciousness, until his last hold on control unlinks and he falls.

When he does, he dreams of a hot air balloon departing for Chicago.

**. . .**

As always when these things happen, he and Boz go on an adventure albeit accidentally. He doesn't remember much of it, probably because it was mostly too wild and a bit traumatic to remember.

All he recalls are the special swords, a group of Tarantula people chasing them, and falling off the waterfalls where he and Boz hung onto a vine for a long time, waiting for help to arrive. Mason and Mikayla saved them (when do they never?) by advising them to let go and plunge down to the waters below.

At the end of the day, they're drenched, shaken, and hysterical over the whole experience. They survived danger, like they always did.

It's then he realized what he needs to do. "The new island, is it really safe?"

Boz looks at him, blinking blankly. Then, decisively, he says, "I've been thinking about it, Boom, and I think you're right that – "

"Boz. Is it safe?"

Boz ponders over his response, once again conflicted. Eventually, he nods. "Mason has checked several times for me. He guarantees it."

He nods. "Then we should start preparations for your journey tomorrow," he says, smiling.

The whole process starts off a little slower than expected because of Boz. His brother is stalling, he notices, which he chuckles at and teases him about. This urging doesn't work that effectively at first because Boz soon realizes that leaving is a lot harder in action than in words.

However, with repeated encouragement, Boz decides to be true to his position as king and speeds up what his people has been deeply yearning for.

Nearly two months later, they're all ready.

"I'm gonna video call you every night, I promise," Boz says as they embrace tightly. "And I'll come visit every month."

"Don't be too clingy, bro. It's weird," he tells him jokingly.

"Okay, maybe I'll call you every other night and then visit every three months? Kinkou and Mindu are still brothers. We still have business to conduct."

He shrugs, his head bobbing in agreement. "I guess that can work. I can come over, too. We'll switch it up, you know?"

"By the time you come, I'll have something swanky and cool for you to stay in," Boz promises.

He chuckles. "All right."

The goodbyes come next, to Mikayla first then to Mason. When his turn comes, it seems to vanish altogether. "This is not goodbye, Boomer," Boz tells him, perhaps more for himself than for his brother. "This is just a See You Later."

He scoffs out a chuckle. Nevertheless, he concedes, "We will see each other, especially since you're going to contact me as soon as you reach New Mindu."

Boz laughs. "I will, I will," he says. Then, "Thank you, Boomer. For everything."

He nods with a smile – but he says nothing.

With Mason, Mikayla, and a few Royal Guards at his side, he watches as Boz's ship recede farther into the horizon. He stands there and watches with a smile, making sure that Boz sees that he supports his wise decision for his people.

For two hours, he stands at the pier, even when everyone else around him and on the ocean is gone.

"Boomer, dinner is ready," Mikayla speaks up from behind. He doesn't see the sympathy in her eyes. "It's been a long day. You should probably eat."

It is then that he allows the smile to leave, too. "I'm tired," he says, gazing at the empty sea, at the empty sky. "You and Mason enjoy the food. I think I'm gonna turn in for the night."

For the rest of the night, he sits on his bed, staring at the empty one across from his. He remembers when Brady first saw it, how excited he was that he got to have a spacious one for himself. He remembers when Boz first saw it, how slightly repulsed he was of it, more so of the requirement to sleep on it instead of the logs on the ceiling.

Now, it's empty.

He turns his back against it when he lies down for the night. He closes his eyes tight, fighting away the realization that it's quieter and colder in their—_his_—room now.

He falls asleep after a fitful forty-five minutes.

That night, he doesn't dream of a hot air balloon.

He dreams of a ship getting smaller in the horizon.

**. . .**

_october 2017_

"Good morning, Your Highness!" Mason greets him in an uncomfortably cheerful tone at breakfast. "You're up pretty early today. You must have something fun planned."

He unfolds the napkin on the table and places it on his lap. "What needs to be done, Mason?"

Mason frowns, confused. "Your Highness?"

"The agenda. I want more things added to my daily schedule," he said, placing the most sensible food choices on his plate. "Where's that treaty that Cornea sent over last month? I want a copy of it so I can review it. I heard Sununu wanted to do trades with us for something, too. Did they send an official document for that request?"

Mason, stunned, only exchanges a look with Mikayla.

He doesn't wait for them. He doesn't want to see pity. "If you can gather the island elders tonight for dinner, that would be great," he tells the father and daughter. "We have to talk about what we're gonna do with the village that the people of Mindu left behind. I'm not sure, so maybe they can decide."

Only silence comes.

When he looks up impatiently, the royal advisor stammers, "Yes. Yes, of course, Your Highness. We'll send out for them."

"Good. Thank you."

He starts his days like this, consulting them what needs to be done while also setting his own goal, every day. On the fourth day, Mason voices his concern. He's worried about him, he says; he's not like this. He doesn't wallow in work, doesn't _not_ joke about him and Mikayla. He doesn't not have fun. He's not like this.

In response, he tells him the truth: he's the king of Kinkou, and he needs to start acting like one. Plus, he's 23. Twenty-three year-olds don't go out of their way to push the limits of being safe just to have fun.

Twenty-three is responsible.

Though puzzled and seemingly disagreeing of it, Mason says nothing and lets it go. For the meantime, he only keeps a close watch.

He ignores that and focuses on his work. He reads, he confers, he signs, he stamps. He visits, he waves, he listens to the people and does what he can to let them know they are heard.

Sometimes he explores, since there are parts of the island he has yet to see and know about as its king.

Sometimes he attends gatherings, like anniversaries and graduation parties and grand openings, just so the people don't feel they've been left behind.

At nights, at least every other, he talks to Boz. His brother is excited about his new home, he says, and he's happy that though they're still rebuilding, his people are happy.

In all the things that he does, he makes sure to smile. He makes sure everyone sees that he's happy and content and able to do this on his own.

Eventually, it does what he wants it to. The people of Kinkou are content and productive. They try new things, laugh when they make mistakes. The palace staff seems to go about their work with renewed zeal also.

Even Boz at times misses their video call appointments because his schedule is starting to get fuller.

And that's good. That's good that everyone is happy and prolific and hopeful. They're all content and full.

They're all what he doesn't feel inside - and that's good.

**. . .**

_december 2017_

He finds himself staring blankly at his parents' portrait one night after bidding farewell to the royal family of Cornea. The king of their ally kingdom had been very excited to share the news of Princess Iris' engagement to a nobility from an island he's never heard much about before. They were very much happy and in love, the Cornean king says. Their union works all the better for the kingdom, and 'By the way, King Boomer, have you thought about finding a queen for yourself yet?'

He realizes as he looks that though he's seen his father's picture many times, he doesn't know him. He's never touched him, never hugged him, never heard his real voice. Aunt Nancy had videos of his mother, but even she was a stranger to him.

"Why did you leave me?" he asks them, and for the longest moment he wishes they can give him an answer.

"Your Highness."

He turns. Mason. There's worry and sympathy in his eyes, but he discards knowledge of it. He looks back at his parents' portrait.

It's then he sees the collage Boz made last year. They're cut-outs, individual pictures all taped into one so all five of them are together.

"They all left me, Mason," he says, his gaze distant. He swallows the lump that forms in his throat when he realizes that no kind of adhesive could put all five of them back together. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. Of course not."

"Mom and Dad were together. Brady's in Chicago with Uncle Bill and Aunt Nancy. Boz and I were together, but..." His vision clouds, and a part of him feels ashamed for being weak. He smirks, quickly wiping the tears off his cheeks. "I don't suppose you'll let me fly back to Chicago?"

Mason only regards him with the same pitying look.

The smirk dissipates from his face. "I thought so."

"You're not alone, Boomer. You have many people here for you," Mason says. "Mikayla and I are here for you. Sadly, Lanny is still here for you. The islanders – they adore you. We may not be your real family, but we care about you as much."

He nods, a small, appreciative smile pulling on his lips. However, it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. He looks around the room and notes how desolate it is.

There's only one bed now, only one crown. Brady's guitar has long been gone. Boz's belongings are gone, too. There's only one ring on the pool table, only one laptop on the couch.

And there's only him left in their family of five.

His heart finally shatters from its hollowness. "You ever came home from work to an empty house?" he asks, his voice breaking as tears freely roll down his face. He tries for a smile but fails miserably. "I'll tell you, man, it sucks. It's the most unfair thing in the world."

Mason comes and places a hand on his shoulder.

And he falls apart. He weeps – for the death of the parents he's never known, for the years he and Brady didn't spend together and will never get back.

He weeps for the things he knows will never be and the life that he knows he'll never have.


End file.
